


Bar hopping

by DearCat



Series: Shinichi 2019 [7]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Prostate Massage, Spanking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearCat/pseuds/DearCat
Summary: Ichigo would like to point out that this is not his fault. He has nothing to do with it and and that’s his story, he’s sticking to it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

Ichigo would like to point out that this is not his fault. He has nothing to do with it and that’s his story, he’s sticking to it. He thanks the bartender with a nod of his head and downs the sake in one go. The man only arches his brow but at Ichigo’s grumble, he pours him another glass. This time some pink monstrosity that looks awful but burns as it goes down and leaves a sweet taste in his mouth. Ichigo hums as he considers it. The bartender gives him another without prompting.  
  
“You know we’re billing you for it, right?”, the bartender tells Kisuke conversationally as he hands yet another glass to Ichigo.  
  
Ichigo snorts, the scientist is too entertained by the all-out bar fight happening beside them to care.  
  
“Put it all on Shinji’s tab”, Ichigo tells the man as he raises his arm to make sure his meaning is conveyed. Because yes, he knows Urahara can afford it but he’s still a good student and a little miffed at his boyfriend so whatever.  
  
The amused look his teacher sends him tells him the man knows.  
  
Ichigo grumbles and reaches for another glass. This is all their fault anyway. Ichigo has nothing to do with it. He knew going out to a bar had been a bad idea. But Shinji had whined and pouted and then he had made that little expression of his where he bites his lips just so and Ichigo had caved. Yes, he knows he's whipped. No, he doesn't care.  
  
Sure enough, it’s a disaster. Ichigo had been the first to arrive and it felt like no time at all had passed before some asshole had thought it ok to cop a feel of his ass. Ichigo had been in the process of turning around to kill the bastard when a fan had snapped his wrist in admonishment.  
  
Ichigo had glowered at Kisuke as he explained, “this guy just felt me up”.  
  
His teacher had then turned to look at the man but whatever the scientist was about to say got lost in Shinji’s outraged question.  
  
“Oh, did he now?”, Shinji’s voice had been low and menacing and Ichigo had just thrown his hands in the air and backed off. He knows his boyfriend and so he knows that no matter how loud he is on a daily basis when Shinji is really angry, he goes quiet instead. It had been the beginning of the fistfight that’s now on the process of demolishing the poor bar they have decided to meet on.  
  
Ichigo downs another drink as he waits for it to either break-off or be done with, he’s putting his money on the later. It takes three or four more drinks but soon enough the sound stops and his boyfriend is coming closer a little hesitant after taking in the pissed off image Ichigo paints as he downs one drink after the other. Hollow self-healing powers are, apparently, wonderful for alcohol consumption.  
  
Ichigo doesn’t even turn to look at him as he asks, “is that blood?”  
  
The blonde shuffles closer as Kisuke subtly backs away from them both. “No?” Shinji replies as he awkwardly tries to clean some of it from his hair.  
  
Ichigo doesn't roll his eyes, he doesn’t. He lets the silence stretch. “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question”, he finally says after letting Shinji squirm for a while.  
  
He downs one last drink before he finally turns to stare at his boyfriend who looks a little dishevelled and is fruitlessly trying to hide the blood on his knuckles. Oh, it’s not his, Ichigo knows. His boyfriend is not about to bleed on a bar fight, of all things. He’s too strong for that. He beckons the man closer with a lazy wave of his hands and looks on as the man shuffles hesitantly to him. Ichigo very carefully doesn’t smirk.  
  
He waits until Shinji’s close enough that Ichigo had to open his legs to accommodate him and then, very deliberately, takes a hold of the man’s hair, tangling his hand in it. Shinji’s breath hitches and Ichigo let’s a little of his power slip through just to see the way the blonde’s breath quickens.  
  
”I think,” Ichigo says, slow and deliberate as he bends to leave a kiss on the side of his boyfriend’s mouth, “that you need a reminder of what happens when you misbehave”.  
  
When Shinji moans, high and needy, Ichigo roughly pulls him closer and shunpoes both of them away. Maybe Kisuke can pay after all.


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to add anything to this but a guest on ff net reviewed it and left me with ideas and well...  
> Enjoy the porn?

They have a meeting the next day, nothing formal enough to require that they all make it. To be quite honest, they don’t even need to be here but Ichigo makes sure that they do. There’s a part of Ichigo that finds dark satisfaction in the way Shinji stalls before finally taking his seat, the way he squirms over the pillow. It’s drawing eyes, Ichigo knows.

Just as he knows that Kisuke figured it out as soon as Shinji sat down. The scientist had snapped his fan open, calculating eyes watching Shinji subtly trying to keep the pressure of his ass before sending Ichigo an amused look. Ichigo had let himself arch his eyebrow back, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.

Shinji, noticing the by-play had hidden his blush with a subtle shift to cover himself with a curtain of blond hair and then glared at his fellow blond. Shinji enjoys being manhandled too much for it to be considered punishment enough and Shinji had been smug about it right up until last night.

He got the manhandling he wanted alright, Ichigo’s strong presence, overwhelming, merciless and demanding. But Ichigo knows him too well at this point and Shinji might have gotten more than what he bargained for. He had spent the night bent over his own desk holding on for dear life and sobbing because it was  _ too much _ and  _ not enough. _

And now he’s desperate and his ass hurts. He’s almost surprised that the cushion he’s sitting on hasn’t caught on fire by the way his skin is radiating heat. It’s too distracting, he’s vaguely aware of Soifon talking in the background and Kisuke’s eyes on him but most of his attention remains in trying not to squirm.

Not that he’s very successful

The sound of knuckles touching the table in front of him has him turning his eyes on Ichigo, who makes a show of looking over Shinji’s posture and then raising his eyebrows. It has Shinji grimacing. The warning hand on his back gets him to rearrange his limbs into perfect seiza.

He shivers, doing his best to ignore the pain on his ass and the shot of pleasure the increase of pressure brings. The plug, that’s just cruel. The reminder might be crueler, with the new pressure there’s no way he can’t forget it. Shinji fists his hands on his clothes in an effort to remain still.

But there’s no way he can even try to pay attention now, his mind is firmly grounded on last night. He clenches around the plug involuntarily and the strong hand holding the back of his neck is the only thing that stops him from losing what little control he has left. And yet it also reminds him that he’s full of more than just the plug and he’s desperate for it.

He hadn’t been allowed to come all night. Not once. He loves it as much as he hates it. But he was promised a reward if he manages to behave during the entire meeting and Shinji is determined to do it. He can be good. So he ignores Kisuke’s teasing glances and snickers, ignores the curious looks of the other captains and the subtle ways the other vizards scent the air. He knows he’s blushing but he ignores that too.

And then finally, finally, the meeting is over. Ichigo walks him all the way to his office. The door closes behind them and Shinji hides his face against Ichigo’s neck, shivers when the younger man grabs handfuls of his ass and squeezes.

He gets a kiss on the top of his heads and then: “over the desk, Shinji.” And the blond moans, high and needy, entirely uncaring on who might hear. He moves into the same position he had to spend all the previous night in and hears more than sees Ichigo settle down in the chair behind him. There are hands on him and then his pants fall to the floor around his feet. No underwear, Ichigo hadn’t allowed it.

“Were you good for me, love?”

Shinji holds on to the edge of the desk, hands closing and opening in sudden nervousness. He feels vulnerable like this, acutely aware of Ichigo’s view of his red ass and the plug still keeping him open. He answers anyway.

“Yes, sir.”

Ichigo hums behind him, hands spreading Shinji’s cheeks apart, fingers prodding at his plugged hole.

“Keep yourself open for me.”

As conversational as the tone is, the heavy hollow-tinted power around them makes sure that it can’t be mistaken for anything other than an order. So Shinji lets the desk go and reaches with suddenly trembling fingers to replace Ichigo’s hands on his ass. For all that they’ve done together, it makes him turn red.

The plug is slowly pulled out and Shinji is overly aware of how he seems to gape. Ichigo blows cold air on him and the blonde can’t help the way his hole tries to tighten around nothing. He doesn’t stay empty for long. Ichigo fingerfucks him, slow and steady. Three fingers pressing and rubbing at Shinji’s prostate mercilessly.

Shinji trashes, holds so tight that he’s sure he’s going to have his own nails engraved on his ass. He sobs and begs, flinches away and pushes back into it as best he can. Ichigo doesn’t give him an inch. He just jabs and massages Shinji’s prostate long after Shinji comes, only stops once Shinji melts into his own desk, too tired to move but still holding himself open as best he can.

“You know,” Ichigo says as Shinji listens to the rustle of cloth behind him and pants desperately into the wood, “I think I’m feeling cruel today.”

Shinji is too far gone to register what that means to him, he only lets himself be pulled from the desk to Ichigo’s lap. He tries to flinch away once he registers Ichigo, warm and heavy and thick, breaching inside him. It’s too much, too much and he whines, more than a little overwhelmed. But Ichigo’s arms around him keep him still and at the end, all he can do is breathe heavily and take it.

But there’s no thrusting, no pounding into him. Ichigo simply settles him there, holds him still and pressed against him and when Shinji makes a small questioning noise, Ichigo chuckles darkly against Shinji’s hair.

“Oh no, love. You’re just going to sit there, looking all pretty, until I give you permission to move.”

Shinji closes his eyes, equal parts despair and anticipation because he knows what that means. He’s going to be forced to sit still on Ichigo’s cock, there’s going to be some occasional thrusting while Ichigo does his own thing. Sooner or later, Shinji’s going to grow desperate again, he might even earn himself another spanking. Or another fucking. He doesn’t know yet.

And they’re in his office.

Shinji could bet that there’s no lock on the door and knowing Ichigo when he gets like this, anyone could come in and Ichigo wouldn’t make a move, wouldn’t allow Shinji to either. He’ll keep Shinji where he is, on display, with his legs open, hole stuffed, stomach covered in his own come. Shinji’s face burns in embarrassment but there’s a flutter of excitement between his legs too.


End file.
